Desperate Flight
by apigeonandaquill
Summary: When Nikola calls unexpectedly to Nigel's Yorkshire residence at four in the morning one night in 1888, he is trembling with a terror that he can't quite explain. Just what has been going on back home?


_When Nikola calls unexpectedly to Nigel's Yorkshire residence at four in the morning one night in 1888, he is trembling with a terror that he can't quite explain. Just what has been going on back home?_

_No slash, just friendship._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, sorry about that. _

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__**Desperate Flight**

Fierce knocking roused Nigel from sleep, and he grumbled as he turned on the lamp on his bedside table. He stepped into his slippers, then walked to the door, hoping that whoever was calling on him at this atrocious hour, they'd leave soon so that he could go back to his rest. "What is it?" He opened the door, peeking out with bleary eyes into the starless winter night, and then paused. "Nikola?" He was surprised to see his dearest friend here, outside his door at this time of night, but then, Nikola had never been one to send a telegram ahead of his arrival anywhere. His surprise turned to worry when Nikola unexpectedly threw his arms around Nigel's waist and lay his head against his chest, his slight form shivering uncontrollably. Nigel was one of the few people Nikola Tesla would ever willingly touch; but even he wasn't used to getting nearly knocked off of his feet by a hug from the man at four in the morning.

"You're freezing. What happened to you? Come in, for God's sake—" Nigel let him go gently, taking his arm and leading him into the house, stopping to shut the door behind them before carefully easing Nikola into one of his living-room armchairs. "Sit there, I'll make you some tea."

"Lock the door." The vampire spoke at last, and his voice was as quiet as the breeze in the treetops, but forceful and strong, as if he were frightened of something he could not explain.

"Alright." Nigel walked quickly back to the door, double-locking it and showing Nikola as he did so. "You want to tell me what this is about?" He asked, as he went back into his pleasant little cottage kitchen, setting the kettle to boil to make them both a well needed cup of tea. "You're shaking like a leaf. I ain't ever seen you like this before."

"There's been some murders back in London." Nikola murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. "Some working girls killed over in Whitechapel." He stopped before he could say anymore. He knew he should tell Nigel what he had seen, but he didn't want to, not yet. What if it was wrong? And it would shatter his old friend's heart, he knew it.

"And…you're scared of the murderer, Nik? I'd keep you safe, you know that, and I doubt there's any killer who could survive a fight with you and your claws." Nigel poured the tea, then brought it over for the two of them, taking a seat opposite his younger companion.

Nikola took the tea gratefully, taking a sip then placing it back down on the saucer with a trembling hand. "Not just afraid of them. I'm afraid of the others." That was the truth, but he had no intention of telling Nigel just_ why_ he was afraid, and who he had been afraid of. _Not yet_.

"Why?" Now, murderer in London or no murderer, this was strange. True, Nikola and John had had some violent fights over the years, and Helen had shot the vampire a couple of times when he'd stepped out of line, but he'd just took it in his stride and gave back as a good as what he got when it came to a battle, and he'd never, ever been afraid of James, nor had a reason to be. James' anger could be frightening, that was true, but it was always short lived and all too soon, everything was forgiven. He'd never have hurt Nikola however cross he got, and neither would the other two, not deliberately and for no reason at any rate. So why was Nikola afraid? Nigel was beginning to feel a chill sink down his spine. Just what had been going on while he was away?

"They think I'm the killer, Nigel." His eyes raised at last, meeting Nigel's own, and the vampire's eyes looked like they always did, steel blue and almost grey under the light, tonight wide and large and clearly terrified, but those were not cold eyes, and not the eyes of a murderer or someone guilty, and Nigel could see it as clear as day.

"Why, because you're a vampire?" Nigel was struggling to make sense of it all. The others, maybe, could miss something, but why would James think Nikola was a danger to anyone other than himself when he so obviously was not, at least at this moment in time. "You're no killer, Nik. Never have been, never will be. You faint still at the sight of a bad wound, for goodness sake, and you can barely bring yourself to drink blood even from a friend who offers it or an animal."

"I know. And I think James knows it's not me as well, but…Helen and John…"

"…are idiots if they think for even a second that you'd ever slaughter some prostitute." Nigel finished for him, crossing his arms. "Honestly, have they lost their brains completely since I've been up North?

"Things have changed, Nige. Everything's…colder." Nikola ducked his head again, turning his attention back to his tea and not wanting to talk about it.

"With them, maybe." Nigel reached out across the table, gently taking Nikola's hand. "Nothin's changed with me. You know I'd always support you, right?"

The vampire didn't even flinch at the touch anymore, nor go to wipe his hands as he normally did automatically. Nigel thought that perhaps that was a good sign for their friendship. Even if everything was going to hell on the streets of London, nothing had changed in the room when it was just them two. Perhaps, that was all that mattered.

Nikola raised his eyes again, and gave a small, crooked half-smile. "I know. It's why I came to you." He didn't say _I had nowhere else to go, _even though it was the truth. So much was going unsaid tonight, but he felt it had to. He wasn't ready to unveil the full horror. He thought he'd be surely sick if he tried.

"I'm blummin' glad you did! Bloody hell's bells!" Nigel exclaimed, his annoyance at the actions of the others sparking again in his eyes. "I'll send a telegram to James tomorrow, tell him you're staying with me for the time being until we can get all of this nonsense sorted out. Helen and John, think you're a killer indeed!" He shook his head, unable to believe just how stupid everyone was being, or that was how he saw it. He'd known Nikola long enough (and thought that they all had) to know he'd not murder unless his life depended on it- and probably not even then. "I'll sort it out, don't you fret, little bird." He gave the vampire a reassuring smile. "Now, 'scuse me a minute while I go get your bed sorted out. Can't have you sleeping on the floor, can we?"

"I don't want to sleep alone right now." Nikola spoke up, his voice blunt and showing little emotion. "I…can't." Nikola's nightmares were back, but he didn't want to make a big deal of it, even though he hated them, as they were so dreadful, and now it wasn't just his brother screaming under that horse he heard, but the screams of all those girls without faces, girls he'd never met or even seen anywhere up close in his life, but who were all dead now and haunted his nights. He gave a shudder, closing his eyes and trying to blot out what his mind had imagined, what he had seen with his own two eyes, the prostitute whose face he couldn't quite make out in the dark, slumped in John Druitt's arms with his knife to her throat, blood pouring down her pale neck as she screamed without sound. _Not yet_. He couldn't tell, not yet.

Nigel's eyebrows ascended into his hair-line. Yes, things had certainly changed a lot in the four months that he'd been making a name for himself up in Yorkshire. While it wouldn't be the first time Nikola had shared a bed with him or one of the others, it had always before been because he was the slenderest and there wasn't enough beds available for all four men and their 'little lady'. This was the first time he'd ever requested outright, even though he had expressed in the past that he found it comforting, even when there was no other choice. "Fine. Alright. But if you kick me, I'll push you right off." He tried to make light of the situation, wanting to tempt Nikola to grin, or at least show a proper smile, but it didn't have the desired reaction at all; the vampire just sat at the table staring solemnly at the extinguished fire in the grate, barely acting as if he'd heard at all.

Just what was Nikola not telling him?


End file.
